Birth
by Kankon
Summary: It's life had been started on the day of its sparking, when a spark of pure energy had been placed carefully into it's cold lifeless chassis, turning the dormant metal into a fully operational mechanical organism. A story of the 'birth' of a Cybertronian.


Birth

Its life had been started on the day of its sparking, when a spark of pure energy had been placed carefully into its cold lifeless chassis, turning the dormant metal into a fully operational mechanical organism. The white hot heat of life caused a massive a power surge, a mini big bang chain reaction within its spark chamber initiating Stage One of Awakening. Electronic pulses shooting through its system like a wildfire, their burning heat racing excitedly through the endless complexity of wire and metal towards the power generator set deep it the chest cavity and outwards. Emergency energon stores powered up and released, freeing the store of hostage energy and flooded the network of hungry fuel veins. Digits flexed and extremities jolted unchecked as the veins filled and the energy leeched away by inner components which drank greedily upon the given power. Turbines activated with a low rumble sluggishly awakening despite the stress and strain of the energon pump beating so hard it could bust at any given moment. Dermal layers gradually warmed and inner workings cooled as servos blipped online and signalled for Stage Two of Awakening.

All power was rerouted and shot back into the spark chamber, it hummed with a defiant glow and pulsed, time stood still. Then with a brilliant flash of lightening bolt of blue spark energy jolted out of the chamber, it's crackling tendrils heading for the head of the mechanical being the CPU, pouring its energy into each circuit. The CPU activated with a sharp start and began initiatiate instinct protocols. Optics snapped onlined, their former darkness shocked a with brightness, and the mechaniod screeched automatically in reaction to what its sensors called pain, reregistered and filed away for the first time. Pain servos intervened almost immediately, dulling the pain sensors through negative feedback and restoring balance, the mech quietened. Warning lights blinked urgently on screen as a secondary jolt came, the surge of a million circuits firing all at once. During this split second the mechaniod became aware that there was a barrage of information trying to rip and claw its way into what its memory banks. Its body shook violently, mouth components reflexively twisting into a grimace, head whipping about spasmodically in a desperate attempt to understand.

Languages, mathematics, science, history, religion, the knowledge of ethics, law and right and wrong uploaded their way into the nothingness, colliding against the preprogrammed data of what it was and it's place in society. Data fought data for dominion and purpose, a chaos sorted in any which way until it made sense. As the last bites of information settled in its CPU a slow sense of true awareness of itself came, the battles of knowledge having being awarded with the gift of reason. The mech knew that it was alive and able to think, learn and decide for itself- the randomised filing and sorting system creating the beginnings of a personality. It was aware of its surroundings, that it was encased in a metallic pod, protected and warm. It understood and that the pod was beginning to open when its audio receptors picked up the awkward hiss of the door's tired struts. Optics widening in excitement as it noticed that there were other mechs like itself outside of the pod, the lifting door revealing them like a magic trick. Mouth components opened with shaky determination, vocalisers jumping to life with a burst of static in a desperate bid to find its voice and form words. Limbs clattered and clambering, balance gauges adjusting with a click to the new surroundings, as it fought to get out of the pod. The others looked on, their own optics eager with interest, humming words of encouragement to it and questions, confusing it further.

_'Not very graceful this one'_ and '_the beginnings of life never_ _are_' registered dully it its processor, but none of it mattered, just background noise, a monotonous hum of flies to be ignored against that voice, the voice of the mech who had told it... no... that had told **him **that** he** had a name. His voice corrected and broke sharply through the buzzing and murmurs in response that that voice.

"….. My designation is ….." he said.

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><p>Authors note: Transformers belong to Hasbro<p> 


End file.
